


Uneasy Alliance

by Merfilly



Category: Transformers (Bayverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle that destroyed Megatron, Bumblebee went home with Sam, and was happy to keep that peace, no matter who rolled into his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uneasy Alliance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



> for heeroluva's donation at the Queensland Flood Relief Auction held by waltzmatildah on livejournal

Bumblebee had chosen to stay with his boy for reasons that he could not have truly expressed to Prime, Ratchet, or Ironhide. Luckily, he had not been asked to. Sam was quirky, not fully socialized to his own kind in healthy ways, and he just... felt so right to Bumblebee that he could not have gone back to only Cybertronian ways. Jazz might have understood, if he had survived the battle, but then Jazz had been known to adapt to alien cultures in ways that none of the rest of Prime's cadre had approached.

Before now. Because the longer Bumblebee remained on Earth, the more he interacted with Sam and Mikaela, the less he even dreamed of Cybertron. His communications with his own kind were all he really needed for 'home', while he integrated into the Witwicky family. Judy remembered more often than Ron did that Bumblebee was more than just their son's car, and often rewarded him for having protected Sam with a pat along his hood. It made Bumblebee happy, and he would find tunes he knew she liked best for when she was working in her restored garden.

Mojo, however, was a nuisance that 'Bee had to agree with Ironhide about; but, Sam liked the dog, and thus Bee never followed through on any of his imagined revenge for various times the dog had annoyed him.

Now that he had found a place to fit in, there was no way in the coldest Pits of the universe was he going to let anything happen to it. Which was why the phantom radiation haunting his sensors prompted a late night foray into the streets of the city and beyond, to see what threat lurked. He'd made it into the abandoned stretches beyond the city, had begun to think he was chasing shadows, when the Saleen appeared ahead of him, cruising toward the scout with no lights showing.

Bumblebee, though he had a voice now, did not waste it on the Decepticon, preferring to flip forward and into mech mode, his hands pulled up and back for the fight he knew was coming. Only... the Saleen came to a stop in front of him and transformed in a non-threatening -- for a 'Con -- manner.

["Frenzy, status?"] the interceptor demanded in their own language.

Bumblebee filtered through the stations he could access, and "It's a dead man's party" escaped his speakers in the Earth language of this geographical region. That did cause the cruiser to push into a fighting stance for a long moment, a snarl of defiance on his lips as he faced the Autobot. Bumblebee considered sending a communication burst to his friends at the base, but ... why was Barricade here? Why hadn't he fallen in with Starscream, given that the Autobots knew the Seeker was on the loose still? Why was Barricade alone, because Bumblebee could not read any energy signatures waiting in the night.

And why had he not already known of Frenzy's fate?

["All?"] Barricade pressed, his meaning clear in the bombardment of images against Bumblebee's communication network. The scout nodded, slowly, pressing the image of the broadcast dumping of the bodies into the Abyss across to him, before flicking the image of Starscream back, with a querying pulse. Barricade snarled, before looking up into space. His shoulder line was low, defeat pressing in completely on the interceptor at the full recognition that it had come to discussion with the enemy to verify his suspicions. He had been in a lengthy self-repair session, stealing what he could for himself in the way of material and fuel, remaining unnoticed in order to survive Autobots, organics, and those of his own kind who would have scavenged him for parts.

"Why can't we be friends?" wailed out of Bee's speakers toward Barricade, the irony of the band's name, War, not lost on the scout as he made the overture of peace.

Barricade snarled at him, before turning and changing back to the car form, racing off into the night. Bumblebee considered pursuit, considered telling someone, but held back. Maybe it was wrong, but deep down in his Spark, the scout thought he should extend at least one more chance to the Decepticon, if he stayed in the area. Then, if things got rough, then Bee would contact Prime.

`~`~`~`~`

Sam listened to the lazy afternoon sounds, laid out blissfully in the shade on Bumblebee's hood. "It doesn't get much better than this," Sam sighed, which incited a rumbling purr of Bee's engine under him. "Okay, yeah, maybe something can be... speed freak." Sam's tone was affectionate.

"I can't drive fifty-five!" Sammy Hagar wailed from the radio.

"Yeah, I know. You almost got me another ticket, you Grand Prix-wannabe." Sam rolled over onto his stomach, feet dangling off the end of the hood, as he stared at the reflection of the sky and tree in the windshield. The rumbling stopped, and Sam could only call the silence from his car 'unnerving'. "What, what'd I say?"

The slight tremor was enough warning for Sam to move off the hood, and then Bumblebee transformed, his blue optics sad and puzzled. "Barricade."

"Yeah what about that psycho cop car? He's gone, right, no more shaking me to pieces or threatening to dice me up into chopped liver, right?" Sam questioned. "What, what is it? Why are you looking like a bad hound dog impression?"

"Only the lonely..." Roy Orbison sang out, full of twanging angst.

Sam did a double take, finally figuring out what 'Bee meant by that, then shaking his head. "You remember the part where he tried to kill me, right?"

Martika sang back to him, "We all fall down like toy soldiers."

Sam sat down on the grass, knees up, hands going up to hold his head. "He's an enemy. Prime would know what to do about it."

"No." Bumblebee reached down, resting one digit on the boy's back. "One chance. Time for peace, if he will allow."

Sam looked up at the robot, the best friend... more... he had ever had, and knew what choice meant to him, to all the Autobots. "Okay. But if he tries to kill you, I am personally screaming like a girl for Prime." He turned to hold that finger, and did not protest when Bee picked him up, pulling him up to cuddle at chest level. Even with shielding and metal in the way, Sam could feel the pulse of the hidden Spark, and let it soothe him.

`~`~`~`~`

It was late but the night was hot enough to bring no relief from the airless heat of the day. Barricade rolled along, silent and lightless, until he was actually in the town itself, focused on the place he knew the other Cybertronian to be residing. His sensors, though, drew him on past the house, and out further, going toward a bluff that was slightly less arid, a faint breeze stirring away from the familiar buildings, out among the green growing things so unwelcome to the interceptor. However, his sensors had not misled him, for the bulk of the scout, in mech form, could be seen ahead.

Barricade moved in a stealth mode that Ravage, had the bestial symbiont been present, would have been proud of. It allowed him to get close enough to hear that the mech, reclined with his back to a tree, was not alone. That sharpened Barricade's optics, narrowing in on the slim form of one of the prevalent organics of this world. Not just any organic, but the one that had slain Megatron by what intel Barricade had found so far.

Samuel Witwicky, his primary objective on reaching this world, was propped up along the frame of the scout, and for a long span of processing time, Barricade was not certain what he felt or intended to do. That objective had given way in the face of no further orders. Bumblebee had confirmed that the planet was devoid of any Decepticons save himself... and possibly Starscream, who had no patience or use for the ground-bound portion of the army. By Decepticon standards, Barricade could even admire the puny organic; he had defeated the strongest of them all. Yet, on the other hand, the mere fact that Sam was organic at all was a huge bar to Barricade liking him at all.

The whimper of a battle-damaged vocalizer caught Barricade's aural sensors, and he focused again on the overall scene of the human and scout. Was the human somehow hurting the scout? He started to move forward, to spare the Autobot such indignity, only to be arrested by the impact of what he was actually seeing.

Samuel Witwicky was using his hands to manipulate sensors, stroking the sensitive diodes in Bumblebee's helm, making the scout push into the touches. Barricade's optics narrowed at the realization, and he was torn between disgust and an unfamiliar sensation. Curiosity? Was this seeking knowledge for its own sake instead of on orders? The interceptor settled back into his waiting and watching, analyzing the way Bumblebee twitched and made small noises that were almost painful... noises that made Barricade's own sensors vibrate with anticipation. How could the scout allow this? How could the scout stand to be brought to interfacing pitch, with no hope of satisfaction from such a puny, frail partner?

Barricade's weaponry twitched the instant Bumblebee's chest plates creaked open. It would be so easy to take a shot now, destroy the human and the scout in one blow, yet he did not move. Instead he watched as Samuel Witwicky shifted close to that blazing energy, unafraid of it and familiar with it by all accounts. How, Barricade wondered, could this be acceptable? His optics remained locked to the scene as the human reached with both hands, caressing the glowing Spark in its protective casement. Sounds erupted from human and scout both, sounds that were sweeter than anything wrung out by interrogation methods, and which incited a minor riot in Barricade's sensors. He watched as the human seemed to experience odd seizures, falling away from contact and curling on Bumblebee's legs even as the scout twitched and offlined momentarily.

Maybe Barricade should take advantage of it now, and present their deaths as credit to his continued existence if Starscream ever returned. Maybe he should file this as a report on how humanity had found a way to enslave the Autobots, readying it against the chance of anyone returning to this mudball of a planet. Or maybe he should find a way to report the perversion to the Autobot commander, to sow dissension, if it was an unknown behavioral trait.

Instead, Barricade withdrew in silence, tingling in sensor arrays he had preferred to forget in the army, and too aware that his time on this mudball was likely to be spent in solitary, unless...

... unless the scout had been honest in offering peace.

`~`~`~`~`

They ran side by side in silence. Bumblebee had come to the outer roads to see if Barricade would be there. When the Saleen fell in beside the Camaro, only silence seemed to suit, silence and the sizzle of the asphalt beneath their tires. It was too unusual a moment to destroy with words or music, even had either of them known what to say.

Out among the stars, there might still be a war. More of either side might someday come to this backwoods planet. The war could flare sharply then, and their choices were branded in their Sparks as clearly as the motifs in their designs.

Yet... Bumblebee had chosen a path away from his elite cadre. Barricade was alone. Did they need to keep the war alive here, in the shadow of the destroyer of Megatron?

Barricade let a wave of energy roll over the scout, questioning, touching, offering a limited truce between them.

Bumblebee accepted, twining the energies in his own, offering them back as their paths came to an abandoned fueling depot, wheels locking in response to their mutual decision to end the silence. The interceptor was first to take mech form, but Bee did not let him be alone in it for long.

There were questions, limits to be set, but for now, Barricade reached out to touch the Autobot's arm, the first time he had peacefully touched any of Prime's followers since the war began.

His hand was covered, and Bee's optics brightened.

"Give peace a chance," John Lennon sung. Barricade snorted... but he didn't pull his hand free either.


End file.
